


Broken Wings

by Oakwyrm



Category: Thrilling Intent (Web Series)
Genre: Major Character Injury, Multi, Polyship Week, Pre-Relationship, Wingfic, like a really bad injury, not as angsty as it could have been?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-10 20:36:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7860214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oakwyrm/pseuds/Oakwyrm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thog, in all of his years, had never shot something he hadn't intended to shoot. "Had" being the operative word.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on this prompt: person A had wings and is in a world where flying people aren’t normal to the average person, Person B sees them and shoots them down for whatever reason while the rest of the poly group has to help person B after they panic for shooting someone out of the sky.

Ashe was moving as fast as she could through the sky, her large white wings carrying her far away from the nest. The moon was large and full above her as she surveyed the ground bellow, her large golden eyes, distinctly owl-like in appearance, were well suited to such work. Unfortunately for her, however, there was another out that night. One who hid better than she could account for.

A loud bang rent the still night air and the next thing Ashe knew she was falling. There was a pain more intense than any she had ever felt before. Her right wing was burning but it felt dulled by the panic at how fast she was plummeting towards the ground. Her father had been a traditional man. Her first flying lesson had been much like this one. With one difference, she actually had a chance of escaping the collision with the hard and unforgiving earth that time. She tried in vain to gain air again, her right wing screaming in protest as she tried to use it.

She hit the ground with a sickening crack. An instant of pure, blinding pain as bones cracked and broke and the air was knocked from her lungs and she knew no more.

Thog stood frozen by the nearest tree, not daring, not _wanting_ to believe what had just come crashing through the branches. He had been hunting an abnormally large owl who had been attacking other owls of its own kind, not a... whatever the hell this person was. He took a deep breath to steady himself and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He forced his hands to be as still as they could be as he selected the number he wanted.

“It's four in the morning,” Markus' tired voice said as soon as he picked up.

“I don't care get your ass out here right now,” Thog said, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Wow OK what happened and where are you?” Markus immediately sounded concerned. The sound of a rustling of sheets in the background told Thog that he'd gotten out of bed.

“I'm by the old pine and I think I shot someone,” Thog answered. “No I... I definitely shot someone,” he took a deep breath.

“Oh my God. OK, don't panic I'll be there in twenty minutes. Did you call 911? Are-” Markus faltered for a moment. “Are they alive?” he asked carefully. Thog glanced back at the crumpled heap of feathers and broken limbs.

“I don't know,” he answered honestly.

“OK, check. I'm going to hang up now but I'll be there soon I promise,” Markus replied.

“I'm holding you to that,” Thog said before hanging up. Hesitantly he turned to the person lying broken on the forest floor. He was no stranger to injuries so he knew these were bad. Slowly he approached what, in an cruel twist of fate perhaps, looked like a fallen angel.

He didn't dare touch her lest he make any of her injuries worse. Provided she was even still alive at all. From merely observing what he could see of her that wasn't blocked by her large wings, resembling those of a snowy owl, he could see she had a head wound and that her left leg was broken in at least two places.

Carefully he moved around her so he reached her head and placed his hand not far from her mouth and nose. It was with an intense sense of relief that he noted her faint but seemingly steady breath. Quietly he sat down and stared up at the moon as it travelled across the night sky as he waited for Markus.

Twenty minutes later, as promised, Markus came panting through the trees. He looked like he was about to speak when his eye's landed on the owl girl. Or that's what Thog had decided to call her in the absence of any proper name or species.

“I'm gonna be completely honest this is not what I was expecting,” Markus said slowly. Thog raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah no fucking shit,” he replied.

“Is... is she alive?” Markus asked hesitantly. “I mean she looks pretty bad... Oh that... that wing's gonna be hard to save...” Markus shook himself.

“Right, sorry, lets focus on getting her back home,” he said. Thog raised an eyebrow.

“We're gonna keep the bird lady in the cottage? Really Markus?” he asked. Markus scratched at his chin in thought before shrugging.

“It's no different from taking care of one of our birds... except she's... a lot bigger... er...” he frowned. Thog raised an eyebrow.

“I don't suppose you brought a stretcher?” he asked. Markus sighed.

“I didn't think we'd need one,” he said. Thog got to his feet.

“You stay with her, I'll make one,” he said, ducking back into the trees.

The work helped him cool his head. He'd worked with Markus for soon five years now at a small park set aside for study of various birds. In that time he'd saved and killed more birds than he could count and he had never yet shot anything he didn't mean to. But, as the age old saying went, there was a first time for everything.

The work of gathering materials and putting together the make-shift stretcher distracted him sufficiently. It didn't exactly calm him so much as the somewhat familiar task let him drift and ignore the situation for a bit. Had he been making anything other than a stretcher he might even have been able to ignore how horribly wrong this night had gone.

He returned not long after to see Markus had gone about making what few field repairs he could with the limited resources he'd brought. Thog silently set down the stretcher beside the fallen owl girl. Markus grumbled something under his breath as he finalized the emergency splint on her most broken leg.

“I'd like to add a disclaimer here,” Markus said, getting to his feet. “I am a veterinarian. Not a doctor for humans. That being said I think we can move her if we're careful,” he dusted off his hands on his pants.

Once she was somewhat safely on the stretcher and Markus and Thog had picked it up, beginning their road back to the cottage Thog took a moment to be quietly thankful for Markus' freakishly even temper. Sometimes he felt like the universe could throw anything at the guy and he'd just roll with it. Which was definitely what Thog needed right now because despite appearances he was severely freaked out by all of this.

Quietly he looked down at the still unconscious owl girl on the stretcher in front of him and let himself for a moment hope that they wouldn't be digging a grave behind the cottage come morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried? Might post a continuation to this at some point it's actually quite interesting and I didn't get to explore Ashe's perspective much.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ashe hurts and Thog and Markus are concerned. Also in which I use Latin as a cheep tactic to make week names stronger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on this prompt: Imagine Person A injuring their wing, and Person B and C (and D or whoever else) fussing over their injury. Person A makes it seem like it isn’t a big deal, trying to be tough, but in reality, they’re in excruciating pain.
> 
> Just a warning this chapter had vague mentions of some pretty horrendous and bloody acts.

Aesling woke to excruciating pain. Her mind was hazy but even through the fog she knew she was badly hurt. Moreover there was something very, very wrong with her wing. She took a deliberate, painful breath and began assessing her surroundings. She definitely wasn't where she had crashed. The smell of the forest was too faint and this air was not the air of a place with no walls.

She was lying on something soft, seemingly covered head to toe in bandages of some kind. Only her left arm was not in a splint and her shoulder ached in a vaguely familiar way, reminding her of the time she had dislocated it as a child. For a few seconds she remained confused before she realized that she had to be in a human house. Humans had their guns, one must have shot her out of the sky last night.

It took pretty much all of her being not to panic. Carefully she reminded herself that if this human had previously been aware of the existence of the Volucer people she would not be alive right now. Her wings would have been cut from her back and sold off to the highest bidder as the wings of an “angel” from one of their countless religions while her heart was cut from her chest. A grim mental image, perhaps, but a true one. Those few humans who knew of the Volucer were their only predators. Possessing the heart of an “angel” was said to bring eternal life and prosperity. It was absolute bullshit, of course, but fanatics rarely listen to reason.

Somewhat hesitantly she reached the conclusion that this human was not part of such a group and was probably not a threat, given that they had taken her to safety and done their best to patch her up. At that thought her wing saw fit to remind her of the hole ripped through it by the bullet. She winced and opened her eyes slowly to take in her surroundings.

The room was darkened, perfect for her eyes, accustomed to navigating the night as they were. It was sparsely decorated, only a small painting of a river lit by moonlight hanging on the far wall. Speaking of walls they were made of wood. She didn't have time to note much else, however, as just then the door opened and a human with long blond hair tied up in a hasty bun came rushing in.

He stopped abruptly when he took her in properly and noticed she was awake. They stared at each other in silence for a moment before he slowly and cautiously moved towards her. He opened his mouth to speak but the words that formed were unfamiliar to her. She shook her head as much as the swimming feeling would allow and he frowned.

Another string of words, definitely in a different language, this one full of rolling R's and throaty sounds. Still not one she knew, though. She bit her lip, hesitating for a second. She knew no human languages beyond what little she had heard from people walking in her territory and even then she doubted all she'd heard was one language.

“I don't understand you,” she finally said in her own language.

Markus frowned at the unfamiliar, melodious words that the owl girl spoke. He needed to redress her wounded wing and he needed to understand her. He had to find some way to communicate with her, preferably soon. He supposed trying to exchange names would be a start. He placed a hand over his chest and, trying not to feel immensely foolish, introduced himself.

“I'm Markus,” he said. Her reaction, however, was far, far from what he had expected.

Ashe's eyes widened as the human spoke his name to her. It was only a part of his name, sure, but his _name_. It rang clear in her head and she could taste the power of that name on her tongue, waiting to be unleashed. He definitely knew nothing of her people, then. To give your name, even part of it, so soon after a meeting was unheard of. A name was a history, an entire life summarized in just a couple words, if you knew how to look. Ashe did and she hated it. Luckily she could keep a lid on it when she needed to.

“Aesling,” she said after a pause. Markus nodded slowly then her pointed to her damaged wing and held up a box. She frowned but didn't draw away. He seemed to get the idea and slowly inched closer. Carefully he unfolded her wing, not missing the way she twitched as he did, or the feeling of tense repression he was getting from her. It was obvious she was hurting, badly, but the important thing was that she was alive.

He redressed the wound as quickly as he could while still maintaining his standard of work. As he put the finishing touches on the new bandage Thog entered the room.

“Hey Markus what's taking so l-” he stopped suddenly when he noticed Aesling was awake. She abruptly pulled her wing back from Markus and looked suspiciously at Thog.

“Thog! Perfect. She woke up,” Markus got to his feet, looking between the two. “Also she doesn't speak English.” Thog took a slow step forwards.

“She's going to be OK, then?” he asked. “Her wing looked pretty bad yesterday.” Markus scratched at his chin.

“She should be fine if she gets enough rest,” he said.

“Markus,” Aesling's voice interrupted their conversation and the two turned to look at her again. She looked considerably unimpressed and her eyes flicked to Thog in a very telling way despite the language barrier.

“Oh right of course I'm sorry,” Markus smiled before shoving Thog forwards a bit.

The newcomer was stiffer than Markus, definitely. Maybe kind of an asshole if she had to make a snap judgement. He sat down in the chair by her bed, kind of awkward in the way he moved. He, too, spoke to her in the unknown language. He seemed like he was doing his best to apologise for something. The thought struck her that he might be the one responsible for her current state and she glared at him.

Thog sighed and got ready to turn away and leave. Sure, he was responsible for her near death experience and he wanted her to recover but he was pretty sure she didn't want him around. Her look seemed to say she'd figured out he was the one behind the trigger last night. Unfortunately for him, however, Markus was still in the room and no one did a stern parent glare like Markus. No one. Thog rolled his eyes and turned back to the owl girl.

“The name's Thog,” he said. She still didn't look pleased with him but seemed to soften a little.

“Aesling,” she answered. Thog got up.

“OK perfect. I hope you get better even though you can't understand a fucking word I say so I'm just gonna go now,” he walked briskly towards the door. As he passed Markus he caught the distinctly amused look on his face. “Save it,” he snapped and was gone. Markus turned back to Ashe with a sigh.

“He's worried about you,” he said. Ashe sighed, some more of that beautiful language spilling from her lips. “Yeah we need to figure out communication...” Markus said, unknowingly responding perfectly to her comment about still not knowing what the actual hell he was saying any of the time.

***

Thog's concern for their house guest shone through clearly no matter how much he tried to bluff his way out of any accusations of the kind. Especially when it became time for her to eat something. Thog stood by the stove, unconsciously plucking at his shirt. A nervous habit he'd had since practically forever.

“She's basically a snowy owl. She should be omnivorous, right?” he glanced at the pan where a steak was being fried before sighing a very a frustrated sigh. “How the fuck am I supposed to cook for someone when I know fuck all about their diet?” he tapped his fingers loudly on the counter.

“I'm pretty sure she won't eat anything she doesn't want to,” Markus reasoned, looking over Thog's shoulder at the other pan that was warming up some left over potatoes. “Do you think her species has cutlery?” he asked suddenly. Thog turned to him with a blank expression.

“I don't know. Ask her when you figure out how to talk to her,” he said. Then a thought struck him. “Does she even eat cooked food?” he asked before letting a growl of frustration escape him and sitting down heavily in the nearest chair.

“Once again, pretty sure she won't eat anything she doesn't want to,” Markus said, grabbing the potatoes and emptying them onto the waiting plate. Thog sighed and got up, making sure the steak was done before placing it next to the potatoes.

“If she likes it she can eat it, if she doesn't it's not my fault. I'm not used to cooking for a fucking undiscovered species,” he stopped his walk towards their guest room to lean heavily against the wall, seemingly realizing what exactly he had just said. “Jesus fucking Christ Markus what did I get us into?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't know if I'll do more with this? I might?


End file.
